I See Fire
by CelticCrossings
Summary: What if Peeta hadn't survived the 74th Games? How does Katniss feel? How does 12 feel? And most importantly, how does President Snow feel? Let me know if you think I should continue.
1. Chapter 1

Summary: What if Cato had taken Peeta with him when he fell off the Cornucopia in the first book? What if Katniss had shot them both to put them out of their misery? How would everyone react? Don't worry, she'll still become the Mockingjay and such.

Disclaimer: I OWN NOTHING

I sat in a daze, I couldn't believe what had just happened. Mentally I went through the facts of the past few minutes. Fact: I'd shot Peeta. Fact: he was dead. Fact: I was going home. Fact: Peeta wasn't and it was all my fault.

"Hey Sweetheart." It was Haymitch. I wondered if he had any booze on him right now. I really needed some alcohol. "Katniss, we're gonna get you cleaned up but first the medics want a look at you. You're all cut up and your hearing might be affecting your balance and aim-." I stopped listening.

My aim. My aim is what got Peeta killed. If I'd been able to shoot Cato in the hand like Peeta had told me to he'd still be alive. I should have listened but instead I aimed for Cato's eye. I didn't want to look into his eyes when he died so I decided to get rid of them.

"Katniss are you listening to me? The medics want to clear you before Cinna and Effie get you ready for your interviews okay? In a few days we'll be able to go home and you can ignore me all you want but for now I need you to cooperate."

I just looked blankly ahead and let the medic and prep teams do their jobs. I didn't care anymore.

When the hovercraft that took me from the arena lands I realize that we're on the roof of the Training Center. I wonder what will happen next when suddenly I feel a prick at my neck and my world goes black.

I wake up back my room; it's my Capitol given tribute room, not the one I have at home in Twelve, but it's not the arena and for that I'm grateful. I close my eyes again and take inventory of what I notice around me. Though I'm clean and polished for the interviews that will come in the following days, I still have the scars I gained in the Games. I listen to what's around me and have to do a double take. I move around and realize that I can hear again from my left ear.

I notice a band around my waist that keeps me from raising off of the bed and I begin to panic. As I get more and more agitated the door opens to reveal the red-headed Avox that was here when we arrived to the Capitol. She gives me a tray with some broth and applesauce then presses a spoon into my hand. I sigh and try to eat but I just throw it back up.

The food must have been laced with something because I pass out again not long after I've emptied my stomach. When I wake again it's the same routine and eventually I give up. They must be giving me fluids somehow because I'm not dehydrated.

At some point, I've stopped keeping track of how long its been, I notice that my scars are fading, the restraint is gone, and that I can stay awake after I eat. They aren't drugging me anymore. I carefully slip into an upright position and get out of bed. I stand there for a moment before noticing the clothes on the chair in the corner of the room. I put them on and make my way to the common area where I heard people talking. I see Effie speaking with Haymitch and Cinna and I barely keep the tears at bay. They all turn to look at me and despite the fact that I know this is being filmed, I launch myself into Haymitch's arms first. He is warm and familiar and smells like home. When all of this is over and the others are gone I know he'll still be there.

"You're okay Sweetheart" he says. I just bury my face into his chest until Effie pulls me away and pushes me towards Cinna. "Cinna's going to get you ready for your interview tonight okay Katniss?" "C'mon Katniss, I've got the perfect outfit for you." I look back towards Haymitch silently asking if he'll come with me. He shakes his head but gives me a smile. "Gotta get ready myself Sweetheart. Go with Cinna, I'll see you backstage."

I follow him to the room where the rest of my prep team is waiting. They pull off my clothes and instruct me to stand on a pedestal so they can help me redress. I look down at my body as they flit around and see that I can easily count my ribs. I haven't been this underweight since last winter when game was scarce and money was scarcer.

I turn as Cinna brings out a yellow dress and when I put it on I look like a candle's flame, innocent but bright. The added padding around my chest and hips is hidden by the gathering at my ribs and when I spin in front of the mirror I look like a child near Prim's age instead of the messed up teenager I am. I realize suddenly that the Games aren't over, that there's more to play.

I'm led backstage before Caesar's interview where I can hear the thundering audience. It's so loud that I don't hear Haymitch come up behind me. When he lays a hand on my shoulder I flinch and spin around to shoot him with my non-existent bow and arrows.

"Easy Sweetheart, its just me. Remember, when Caesar asks you how you feel about Peeta you play it up. I don't care about your actual feelings up there. You are heartbroken and just want to get home and see your family, got it?" He hugged me after his spiel as I nodded into his shoulder. He kept me in the hug until it was time for me to go on stage and the real Games began.


	2. Chapter 2

Summary: What if Cato had taken Peeta with him when he fell off the Cornucopia in the first book? What if Katniss had shot them both to put them out of their misery? How would everyone react? Don't worry, she'll still become the Mockingjay and such.

Sorry for the long wait you guys

Disclaimer: I OWN NOTHING

I walk out onto the stage and make my way to the throne next to Caesar's chair. The throne is rather ornate. The seat cushion was a velvety purple and the frame was gilded gold. I take Caesar's proffered hand and he waits for me to be seated.

"So Katniss," he starts. His voice is full of sorrow; the audience probably even thinks its real. I'm not quite so fooled though, or maybe I'm just jaded. I didn't trust people much before the Games let alone now. "Katniss, what went through your head when you realized what had happened?"

I stared for a second and looked down. I pretended to wipe a tear away as I sniffed. When I looked up again I saw the audience in tears. I tried not to roll my eyes. These people had no idea what loss was. "What went through my mind?" I asked Caesar quietly. The microphones picked up my voice easily though. "I don't think anything did. For a few seconds I didn't even register what had just happened. Then suddenly I saw Peeta falling and the mutts attacking him and Cato and I knew what I had to do."

"Yes yes. You've always done what needed to be done in the arena haven't you Katniss." He didn't phrase it as a question despite the way he worded the sentence. It was like he was trying to goad me. "Why don't we watch the highlights and then we'll ask some more questions."

As the screen flashes the opening of the Games, I turn to watch like I'm supposed to. Viewing is mandatory throughout the districts. On screen is the first scene when we all rise on our podiums just before the cannon booms. I didn't have much part in the bloodbath so I was curious what all had happened. I noticed that in a small square in the corner is my face now, catching my expressions as I watch. I made a note to appear more distraught when I see Peeta on screen later.

Whoever was in charge of the camera fast forwarded a bit until the next death and then the next. Eventually I came back on screen. It was when I was hiding in the tree from the Career alliance and Peeta. At the time I thought he was hunting me, but he'd been protecting me the whole time. I felt a tear slip down my face but didn't move to wipe it away. The audience sniffled and awed when they saw it leave my eye.

Once I drop the tracker jacker nest on the group below and we watch them slowly die, the camera zooms again to the next few deaths. When it gets to Rue they show how she died, how I shot the kid who killed her, and when I sang. They ignore my flowers and salute to the camera, but I wasn't surprised by that.

I am numb while during the rest of the viewing until it Seneca's announcement. I watch as I scream for Peeta on screen and the audience starts crying again. I make sure to look down and pretend again to wipe away tears. I'm surprised when I do so to find real tears on my face.

We view more shots of death after death until finally we're at the final scene, the cornucopia. I am suddenly unsure if I'll be able to watch, but I can't seem to turn my head away. It's as if I'm stuck in another one of my nightmares as the scene unfolds. I see Peeta tap Cato's hand as a target for me to shoot. I don't know if the audience notices, most people wouldn't. I watch myself shoot Cato in the eye and am surprised to see the lack of emotion on my past self's face. Is this what everyone else sees all of the time when they look at me? Next I see Cato and Peeta fall to the ground and hear their screams as they're eaten alive. Many of the audience members turn away when I shoot them again. They may not understand it, but I'm putting them out of their misery; it was really the only thing that I could do, my last attempt to help.

"Now Katniss, why did you shoot them again? It seems a bit like overkill if you ask me." I worked very hard not to glare.

"I put them out of their misery. I was the kindest thing I could do," especially considering I've never possessed much kindness in the first place. My tone must have struck a chord with him because when he spoke again his voice was cautious.

"Yes. How do you think your district will feel about your victory?" That was the kicker wasn't it? They never expected one of us to win, but Peeta's father had said it himself, if one of us was going to win, we all knew it would be me.

"Well Caesar, I think that they'll be heartbroken about losing Peeta. He was well loved back home. He was good and kind. He represented the best in us." I didn't know where that response came from, it just came out. Apparently it was the right thing to say. I could see Haymitch smile at me from the wings and the crowd awed again.

Caesar decided to end the interview after one more question. "Katniss, that promise you made to your sister about winning the Games for her, are you excited to go home and see your family?" Was I? I wasn't the same person I was before the Reaping. I looked the same, but I wasn't that girl anymore. Now I was a victor. I thought about what Peeta had said the night before the Games began, how he wouldn't let them change him. I think he won. He died as Peeta and not a Capitol puppet. Me on the other hand, I wasn't myself. I didn't know who I was anymore. Scratch that, I knew exactly who I was. My name is Katniss Everdeen and I am from District 12. I am a Victor. I am a Murderer. I am Lost.

Someone backstage must have noticed that I had blanked out because the Capitol theme started to play. Caesar made a few more frivolous remarks and then I was being ushered backstage.

"You did good Sweetheart" Haymitch whispered to me as Effie led us back to our apartment. Tomorrow we would be leaving the Capitol to go back home. I wasn't sure how I felt about that, but anything was better than being here.

Before we all went to bed Effie gave me a hug and said how she'd miss me and that she was sorry about Peeta, how he'd always been so kind and how much the Capitol citizens had loved him. I just nodded along. By the next Games none of them would remember Peeta, let alone how much they'd "loved" him.


	3. Chapter 3

DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING

Weeks have passed since that interview with Caesar. Now I am home, but even home isn't home anymore. We've been moved from our shack in the Seam to a mansion in Victor's Village next to Haymitch. Unbeknownst to the majority of the District I often sleep in our house in the Seam rather than that monstrosity provided by the Capitol.

Today, nearly six months from the day Peeta and I were Reaped, I was in the forest outside of the fence. The prep team will arrive in a few hours for the beginning of the Victory tour. A decent sized part of me wishes Peeta were here. He was always better with the crowds and speeches; I just get people in trouble. I began to make my way back to the house in the Village to change, Effie would have my head for being dressed like a Seam kid again. In the back of my mind I wonder what color scheme Effie will be wearing this time.

While each year the Tour is broadcast throughout the districts and each year we are forced to watch, this is the first year I'll be a participant. I will be paraded around like an animal given speeches about my victory and how wonderful the Capitol is in front of the families of the children I killed. The worst part is that I start the Tour in Eleven, Rue's district, and end the Tour in my own district where Peeta's death is still a sore subject.

Regardless of the fact that everyone here had expected him to die, they'd been given a flash of hope when it was announced that two victors could win. When I'd shot at Cato, that hope had been extinguished and they needed someone to blame. For most the blame lay with the Capitol; with Peeta's mother and some of our classmates, the blame lay with me.

I made it to Haymitch's after visiting the Hob and buying from every stall I could. I woke him up with a bucket of melted snow an hour before the cameras were due to arrive and tidied up a bit. There was a basket of fresh bread on the table from Peeta's father; his mother wouldn't trade with me anymore so we did our business through Haymitch. I watched Haymitch sputter and look for clean clothes for a moment before I left to get ready myself.

When I walked in the front door I noticed my mother's pale complexion and the Capitol dressed man in the corner. I was to early for my prep team or any cameras to have arrived so I knew something was up. The man ushered me into our new and rarely used parlor where I was met with a sight worse than any I thought I'd encounter, President Snow.

"Good morning Ms. Everdeen. I trust you've been well?" He doesn't pause for me answer before saying, "no matter. We have things to discuss Ms. Everdeen. Take a seat."

"This is my house." I emphasize the possessive.

"Oh let's not lie to each other Ms. Everdeen; we both know you use this house as a façade, that you much prefer that shack near the mines."

I don't know how he knows this, I doubt anyone would have snitched considering how many of them trade with me. There must be cameras throughout the district.

"Now Ms. Everdeen, we have some important matters to tend to before your victory tour." The word victory comes out of his mouth dripping with derision and the scent of blood; maybe he drinks the stuff, no one knows for sure. "You have created a problem for me Ms. Everdeen. You see, when you and Peeta provided that love story drivel, you created sympathy, genuine sympathy in the hearts of the Capitol and we were forced to bend the rules a bit. Then you threw our kindness in our faces by killing your beloved."

"I don't see how that's a problem. Now there's only one victor, everything is how its supposed to be."

"Ah, but it isn't. The audience actually bought your story, they liked your being in love, and they loved Peeta. His death has incited uprisings in the districts; the people are angry that we allowed Peeta to die."

"So what do you want me to do about it? I can't bring Peeta back."

"No, you can't. What you can do however is keep away from that boy everyone thinks is your cousin. I know about the kiss you two shared Ms. Everdeen; luckily, I'm the only one that knows. In order to keep these rebellions under wraps, the districts have to forget why they're angry. They need something to distract them. While you're on this tour you will be ever the grieving lover. You will decline talking about Peeta as a person but you will voice your regret that he had to die with Cato; that he died at your hand. If the districts hate you for what you've done, they'll forget how much they hate the Capitol."

"And if I don't do what you say?"

"If you don't follow my instructions Ms. Everdeen, you'll find that you will no longer have any loved ones to care about. Ask Mr. Abernathy, I'm sure he can help make your decision. Do I make myself clear?"

"Almost crystal. If you don't mind Mr. President, I have my prep team downstairs. Mustn't keep the audience waiting and all that. Good day."

"And good day to you Ms. Everdeen. I'll be checking in periodically."

Once President Snow left the house I quickly locked myself into the bathroom and sank into the bath that my mother had drawn for me. We were getting along better since I'd come home, either out of pity from her for loosing "the love of my life" or apathy from me, not wanting to alienate some of the only people who cared about my wellbeing.

I let the bath water run over my head as I held my breath and tried to come to terms with what President Snow had ordered me to do. Again I wished Peeta were alive instead of me. He was always so good with people and better at manipulating them; I couldn't lie to save my life.


	4. Chapter 4

I must have been in bath for a while because suddenly my mother was knocking on the door.

"Katniss, are you alright?"

I waited a few moments before replying, "Yes, I'll be out in a moment."

I dried off and put on the robe that was hanging on the door. My mother must have left it. There was no point putting my clothes back on since my prep team would strip me of them anyway.

Once I head downstairs I'm greeted with the flurry of activity that is Cinna and the rest of my team. They exclaim that I've let all my body hair grow back and that they don't know how to they're going to fix me in time for our interviews. My saving grace is that I left my long hair alone. They'd be furious if I cut it they say. I chuckle but otherwise keep silent. For as silly as they are I owe them a lot.

For most of my prepping they talk about the Quarter Quell and what it will entail. No one is certain what will happen. I've never been alive for a Quell, the teachers here never taught much about them except that they happen every twenty-five years and are always "special". Eventually they move on from specifics of the Quell to Haymitch. His own games were during a Quell where the Capitol required twice the number of tributes.

I've never asked about Haymitch's games and I never will most likely. It's a good thing I'm here as a mentor I guess, as Haymitch'll be to drunk to be any help. I ponder over that thought and ignore the world around me. Peeta, for as innocent and kind as he was would have made a great mentor, I'll probably be as useless as Haymitch.

I tune in and out for the rest of the prepping as they've moved on to innocuous topics. After a while they start my makeup telling me that Cinna explained that we're going for childish and girly rather than provocative which is good considering I can't act sexy to save my life according to Haymitch.

With a timid knock my mother comes in and states that she's supposed to show the team how she braided my hair for the Reaping. They all cheer and giggle excitedly to learn a new style. I just appreciate the way they respect my mother and what she knows regardless of where she's from.

Eventually they're finished and I make my way back downstairs to greet Cinna who has been rearranging my living room. He starting calling me a few months ago to work on my "talent". We've talked at least once a week since and discovered that I have zero talent outside of killing animals. Everything I've tried, from flute to drawing to flower arranging has been a failure. Prim however has excelled in all of them.

Cinna throws designing items around the room and hands me some cue cards to read off while the camera shows off "my" handiwork.

"Did I design my outfit?" I ask. It's a soft sweater made of some incomprehensibly expensive material I'm sure. The leather boots are supple and lace almost up to my knees. My pants are black and flowy offsetting my white shirt. Cinna always outdoes himself.

Effie arrives in a tornado of movement and reminds us all that we're on a tight schedule. I move to the kitchen after recording my soundbites to watch Prim's interview. They're going to love her, everyone does.

At the flash of the camera I'm transported back to arena. I don't see Prim anymore but Rue. They're barely similar, but similar enough to cause me shock. I can't help thinking who I'm going to fail this time around, especially if there's a tiny twelve-year-old in the arena for Haymitch and I to mentor this year. I don't think I could handle it.

I feel Cinna putting an impossibly soft coat on my shoulders and flinch at the contact. He doesn't say anything, just helped me with the coat and backs off. Effie is now pushing me out the door where I'll greet Haymitch and we'll pretend to be excited to be mentoring children who will be dead by this time next year.

Haymitch comes out behind his prep team, they used to be Peeta's team but they've been demoted I guess. The rest of the day is spent on photos and getting to the train station for my interviews throughout the Capitol and districts.

Finally, everyone gets ready for bed and Haymitch and I are alone. I need to tell him about my visit from President Snow. He'll know what to do. I push into his cabin before he can lock it and move to sit in the corner.

"What do you want?" he asks with a snap.

"I need to talk to you," I whisper.

He sighs and moves to sit on the bed. "Start talking before I change my mind."

I rustle around a bit, not knowing how to start. "I got a visit from President Snow this afternoon."

He sighs again and waits to exhale. "What in Panem did you do now?"

"Why do I have to do something wrong? That's beside the point." This time I sigh and hold my breath. I can feel the train slowing and tense for a moment thinking that maybe Snow has decided to kill me anyway. I wait another moment and realize that we're just refueling. "It's a bit stuffy in here."

Haymitch takes my comment as intended and leads me outside. Once out the doors and in the snow he turns to face me. "Alright girly, talk."

I tell him everything that Snow and I said to each other, that I have to make the districts hate me without inciting a rebellion. Haymitch laughs and I hit him. Hard.

"Sorry Sweetheart but you've gotta admit that it won't be hard to make them hate you."

"But how do I do it without stirring up more trouble? He threatened my family Haymitch. He threatened Prim."

Haymitch thought for a moment before opening his mouth, "then you can't fail."

"Haymitch please, you have to help me get through the next few months."

"Months? Katniss, you don't understand. This isn't about mere months. In a few months, the cameras will be back for the Reaping. Every year they'll play snippets of your games and Peeta's death. This isn't a few months' worth of effort girl. This is the rest of your life. Do you understand?"

I nodded my head as we boarded the train. This was indeed the rest of my life.


End file.
